The Burden of Baby Brothers
by SpencerRemyLvr
Summary: Just a 2-3shot with sick!Spencer Summers :) Not connected to any of my other Spencer Summers stories
1. Chapter 1

_Set sometime in the Spencer Summers 'verse, no real connection to any other story. This is going to be a two, MAYBE a three shot, but no more than that. Just basically an excuse for some sick!Spencer, inspired by a sick friend of mine who I hope feels better soon! If you don't like fevers, vomiting, or things of the like, if they make you sick, don't read the second part. I suppose part one here can stand alone on its own and there's nothing really to be squeamish about in this first part :)_

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><p>Spencer Reid was miserable. Not just unhappy, not just upset, but full on miserable.<p>

It had started out simple enough. A headache that didn't seem to want to go away. An almost full body ache that he attributed to sleeping on the bad hotel bed. A feeling of exhaustion despite having slept earlier. Nothing too serious. He was kind of used to those feelings. They happened on bad cases and this had definitely been a bad case. Ones with children always were. But it'd ended happily enough and that was all anyone could ask for. So what if he still felt a little down on the ride home? It was just the last few days catching up with him. At least, that was what he told himself. What he kept trying to tell himself even after they were back home and he was standing in the elevator on his way up to the bullpen and a small wave of dizziness had him leaning against the wall. He was _fine_! He was just tired, the case was long, and once he finished his paperwork he'd go home and go to bed.

But there were others watching who knew better. Others who had noticed the genius getting progressively paler. Who had seen the little furrow that built between his eyebrows and how his eyes had gained that pinched look to them. Most thought headache; Derek knew better. He knew that look. One thing that he'd learned to look out for over the years was any sign that Spencer might be getting sick. _That_ was definitely the 'getting-sick' face. And the last place that a sick-Spencer needed to be was at the Bureau. As soon as Derek knew what was going on, he took action, hurrying up to his Unit Chief's office.

A quick rap on the open door drew Aaron's attention. He looked up to find Derek there and the man's body language had Aaron sitting up straighter. "What's wrong?"

"Reid's getting sick." Derek said bluntly, not even bothering to beat around the bush.

The reply Aaron gave came just as quickly. "Take him home. The rest of us will handle the paperwork."

Nodding, Derek turned to hurry back out. They both knew the seriousness of Spencer being sick at work. They knew what could happen when Spencer got sick. It was so very rare for him to catch any kind of cold—Thank _God_—so the only other person currently on the team that would know the signs and understand the seriousness of it was Penelope. Neither Emily nor Dave had ever seen Spencer sick, and Ashley definitely hadn't. But Derek, Aaron and Penelope had. JJ had, too, but she wasn't here anymore, so the job fell to Derek right now. And it looked like he'd caught it not a moment too soon. Just as he hit the bullpen, trying so hard to move casually, Spencer bowed his head and sneezed—and the light over the sink near the coffee pot surged and broke. _Shit_. That right there was exactly why he needed to get Spencer out of the Bureau—_now_. When Spencer got sick, the powers that only a select few knew he had tended to go haywire. The last thing they needed was for there to be random power surges each time Spencer sneezed or coughed, or any other electrical thing blowing up when he threw up.

Spencer grabbed a tissue from the box on his desk and wiped at his nose. His eyes felt slightly gritty and that sneeze had only served to make his head ache more. There was a part of him that recognized what was going on and knew that he should do something about it, that there was something serious that he should be worrying about, but his brain just couldn't seem to make the appropriate connections. It felt a little fuzzy and not quite right.

A hand on his shoulder had him jumping. Wide eyes shot up and Spencer had to blink a few times before he realized who it was standing there by him. "Oh. You startled me, Morgan. What's up?"

"Not much, kid." Derek said with a smile. "Grab your bag; Hotch wants us to go pick some stuff up." The lie rolled easily off his tongue. Years of experience with his best friend had taught him that Spencer would never admit to anything that made him appear weak. Sometimes, a little manipulation was called for.

It worked. Spencer blinked owlishly at him a few more times and then nodded. "Oh. Okay. I can do that."

He bent down to grab for his bag and his head started to spin a little. He had to brace one hand on his desk just to keep from toppling over. Woah. Where had that come from? Behind him, he heard someone call out his name and then a feminine voice asking "Is everything okay? He doesn't look too well."

"He's fine." Derek was saying. His hands were on Spencer, helping to brace him, and then one hand slid in front of Spencer and down to the ground to grab his bag. "Here, kid, I got it. Let's just get you up, all right? Come on now."

"I'm not a child, Morgan. I know how to walk." Spencer said.

His voice was just this side of surly, another sign to Derek to tell him just how much this cold was kicking in. He gave a mental curse and tried not to rush Spencer as he helped him upright. He needed to get his friend out of here, first and foremost, and then he needed to make a quick call. Though Spencer didn't really get sick often, they'd learned early on that he got sick differently than most. It always seemed to creep up out of nowhere and, within a few hours, slam him down hard. They'd learned to get Spencer home as quickly as possible (or once, back to a motel room, cause they'd been on a case) and then to just let him be. Spencer never wanted anyone around while he was sick. He rebuffed any offers of help or anything like that. He'd shut himself in his apartment for a few days, or however long it lasted, and when he came back he'd always be in good health again.

That wasn't going to happen this time. Derek knew that Alex, Spencer's brother, was currently visiting. There was no way in hell the man would just bail on a sick Spencer. He wouldn't let Spencer kick him out. Just the thought of that argument had Derek snorting to himself. As much as Spencer and Alex fought, he knew the two were close and he knew there was no way Alex would leave him alone while sick. Neither would Scott, the oldest of the brothers. Though, from stories that Derek had heard Spencer tell, Scott didn't handle 'sick' all that well. He'd told Derek once that the quickest way to make Scott sick was to throw up around him. "It's almost automatic. He just has to hear someone gagging and it makes him sick." Spencer had said with a laugh that had told Derek that most likely Scott's little brothers had tested that theory out, many times.

Despite Spencer's building surliness, it was easy enough to get him out of the Bureau, and they only had one incident of Spencer sneezing and the lights flashing in the elevator—dear sweet God, the elevator, they were so damn lucky it was just the lights flashing!—and that was easy enough to play off as nothing. No one else in the elevator seemed to make the connection between Spencer and the lights and they sure as hell didn't realize just how lucky they were that Spencer's powers hadn't sent the elevator crashing downwards or something else equally dire. The elevator thankfully made its trip without any further mishaps and Derek quickly ushered his friend out.

He got Spencer outside, noting the way the kid started to instantly shiver, and hurried to bundle him up in his car. Spencer's car could stay here. There was no way Derek was letting him drive himself home. He wasted no time after shutting the passenger's door before he pulled out his cell phone and dialed Alex's number. He'd become surprisingly good friends with Alex over the years.

The man answered after just two rings. "_What's wrong_?" He demanded in lieu of greeting.

Derek knew that his call had probably set off every protective instinct the man had. He'd probably started to worry when he saw it was Derek calling, knowing that the team was on a case, and he was probably thinking the worst. "We're fine." He hurried to reassure him. "We're back and everything, but I'm bringing Reid home. He's sick."

Those last two words were all it took to have Alex cursing. "_You left the Bureau yet?_"

"We're at my car right now."

"_All right. I'll get things ready here_." And without even saying goodbye, he hung up.

Derek closed his phone, stuffing it in his pocket, and then he hurried to the driver's seat. Time to get Spencer home.

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><p>From the minute that Derek had made his call, Alex had been preparing. He wasn't quite sure just how sick Spencer was but he had to be sick enough to worry people if they were bringing him home. And Spencer never could seem to catch just a simple cold. Hank had said once that it had something to do with his powers and the way his electricity affected his immune system and how it sped up his metabolism and a bunch of other mumbo jumbo that Alex hadn't really bothered to pay any sort of attention to. None of it really mattered to him. What good did it do them to know <em>why<em> Spencer went from healthy to the-flu-from-hell in point five seconds? It didn't tell them how to fix it so he could at least get sick like some normal person. All Hank had been able to offer were suggestions on how to make the whole process easier and Alex hadn't bothered to listen to those, either. He didn't need anyone telling him how to make it easier for his little bother, er, _brother_. Alex had taken care of a sick Spencer plenty of times. Who else was going to? Diana, bless her heart, wasn't usually up to it to make the duration of one of Spencer's colds, and it wasn't like Spencer had a father figure that would step up to the plate. Not even Scott, the steadiest father figure that Spencer had, could really handle the kid when sick. Oh, sure, he'd try, but the first sign of vomit and Alex would end up having to step in anyways, only then he'd have to clean up two messes, not just one.

Alex had the brother-care routine down. He knew what kind of things he'd need and what he'd need to prepare for and he took the time to get all that ready while he waited for Derek to bring the youngest Summers home. A mop bucket was grabbed from the closet, given a quick rinse, and then set up by Spencer's bed. Clean sheets were stripped out for the old, well-worn set that Spencer kept in the closet, the ones that he wouldn't really be that fussed if they got messed up. While he was at the closet, he saw another familiar blanket and he grinned as he grabbed it, bringing it out as well. A look through the cupboards and the medicine cabinet had him scowling and shaking his head. He made up a quick list and then calculated out how much money he was going to need. He was just pulling out his wallet when he heard the sound of keys in the door.

One look was all it took for Alex to really start cursing. Damn, the kid looked like shit! Spencer stumbled his way into the apartment, somehow keeping upright while managing to avoid touching Derek in any way, shape or form. The other profiler was standing behind him with his hands out like he was ready and braced to catch Spencer the instant he dropped. And it _was_ a matter of when, not if, cause there was no doubt that Spencer wasn't going to be able to keep his feet for long. Knowing just how messed up Spencer's empathic shields could get while sick, the main reason the kid tried not to touch anyone, Alex hurried forward get an arm around him before Derek would have to. He moved in just enough time, too. Right when he reached Spencer, the young genius started to slip down to the floor. Alex caught him up with one arm around his waist and pulled him upright, keeping him anchored easily against his side. It wasn't like Spencer really weighed all that much.

"Woah there, pidge." Alex said, pulling Spencer in. He looked at Spencer's pale face, the bags under his eyes and fogginess that was visible even through his contacts, and he shook his head. "You look like shit."

A small scowl twisted Spencer's features and made him look all of about four years old. "Shut up." He grumbled. He didn't pull away, though. In fact, he leaned in, his head dropping down to rest on Alex's shoulder.

Alex rolled his eyes and carefully drew his little brother up. He saw Derek still standing there, watching them both with surprise, and it took him a minute to realize why. Oh! The man was probably used to Spencer refusing any kind of touch when he was sick. Sometimes Alex forgot about that. It was one of the shittier parts of a sick Spencer. When sick, he had trouble with his shields and he couldn't really keep from feeling other people's emotions if they touched, but at the same time his empathy kicked in enough that all he really craved was the warmth and comfort of someone with him. When he was sick was one of the few times that the empath in Spencer got free and showed the need for affection and the craving for touch that the kid usually buried deep, deep inside himself. Basically, what it translated to for Alex was simple—a sick Spencer was a needy, clingy Spencer. That was just a fact. One that he was used to and that he didn't really think about. It was also one of the few things between them that they'd both called 'hands off' for teasing years and years ago after one particularly bad flu bug where Spencer had tried to fight touching because he hadn't wanted to be made fun of anymore and he'd only made himself sicker in his efforts to do it all alone. Since then, there was no teasing about it.

Pulling from his thoughts, Alex looked to Derek and held out the list and money that were still in his one hand. "The shit has, like, almost nothing here. Would you make a store run for me? Now that he's latched on, I won't get him to let go until the bug runs its course."

"Yeah, sure." Derek said quickly. He took the list and money, pocketing one and scanning over the other. His eyebrows went up with surprise at a few things there. "You sure about all this?" he asked carefully, like he didn't want to offend Alex but felt like he had to speak up. He tapped one finger against an item on the list. "Reid, well, he's given quite a few speeches on how disgusting he thinks 7UP is when someone tries to give it to him.

That had Alex chuckling. "I'm sure. The kid can't stand the shit unless he's sick. Then it's one of the only things he'll drink. That, an tea. Brands are important, too. You can find it all down at the market down the road. Just get it like I've listed it all and you'll be good."

"Got it. I'll be back in a bit."

The door shut behind him and the two were alone now. Alex turned his full attention to his baby brother, who was doing a pretty good imitation of trying to fall asleep against Alex's shoulder. Rolling his eyes, Alex jiggled him slightly. "Come on, pidge, don't pass out on me yet. Let's get you changed first. I bet you're ready to take that noose off."

Spencer made a low grumbling sound and Alex knew without looking that he was scowling, too. "'M not passing out." He paused and sneezed, right down the front of them both, totally missing the heavy sigh Alex gave at that or the way he rolled his eyes. "'M supposed to be working. Morgan said…said we've got to get something."

Well, at least Spencer was still mostly coherent. His sentences were still making sense and he hadn't really slipped on it that much, which he tended to do when really sick or when he had a fever. Luckily enough, he couldn't really feel any fever heat in Spencer's skin. That would happen soon enough. There wasn't a single cold that Spencer ever got, even just a regular cold, that he didn't end up with a fever. Another of those things that Hank blamed on his mutation and a buildup of electrical energy that apparently left him feverish.

Alex adjusted his grip and started to turn them so he could lead Spencer down the hall to his bedroom. "You don't have to go get anything, Spencer. All you have to do is come back to the bedroom and get out of all this crap you wear."

"I do too." Spencer said in that half sulky, half annoyed voice that made him sound like a little brat. "Morgan said so. We've got to pick up stuff for Hotch."

A chuckle slid from Alex. It would seem getting Spencer out of the Bureau hadn't been easy. Derek must've resorted to lying just to trick Spencer out of there. Having resorted to that plenty of times himself, Alex could appreciate it. He didn't need to bother with it now, though. Not while Spencer was like this. Grinning broadly, he led them down the hall, half carrying his brother. "Nope. You don't have to get anything, pidge. Morgan said that just to get your scrawny ass out of there."

He felt Spencer huff out a breath and he had to chuckle when he looked over and saw the glare that Spencer was shooting towards the floor. His amusement only grew when he heard Spencer curse in what he was pretty sure was Latin. That had always been one of Spencer's favorite ways to curse. He liked to use it because not many people realized what he was saying. Alex never told him that he purposely learned a little bit just so he could better understand the things his brother spit out sometimes.

They got Spencer down to the bedroom and Alex's grin was wide when he offered to help Spencer changed. It got the reaction he wanted. Spencer's glare lifted to him and the little shit yanked away from him just to be ornery and prove that he could dress himself. He gave Alex a look like he expected him to just up and leave for this and was the kid really that stupid? Rolling his eyes, Alex dropped himself on Spencer's bed, making himself completely at home here. He's never been shy invading Spencer's space and he sure isn't going to start now. Not while the kid's sick. Doesn't he know better than to think that? He should be used to it. Spencer sick is the time that, according to Spencer, Alex goes from annoying-pain-in-the-ass-brother to an annoying-overprotective-mother-hen-brother. And he may be glaring at Alex right now like he believes that Alex is staying in here for the sole purpose of annoying the hell out of him, a typical Alex thing to do, but they both know Alex is staying here because Spencer's starting to sway just the slightest bit and he keeps leaning in Alex's direction even though he won't admit that. He'd panic like crazy if Alex left right now.

But neither one said anything of those things. Spencer just set about carefully stripping out of his clothes and Alex distracted him as he changed by asking him about the case. That worked like a charm. It helped things seem a little more normal and it got them through Spencer changing into the pajama pants and oversized shirt that make up his lounge clothes.

Alex bundled Spencer back out towards the living room, then, and got him situated on the couch despite the low protests his brother gave. All he had to do to still those protests was to put in the first disc from season one of Leverage, a show the two of them enjoyed the hell out of, and Spencer started to quiet. Alex tossed the quilt from the back of the couch over him for good measure. By the time he was in the kitchen putting on the kettle to get the water heated, the only sounds from Spencer were sneezes and sniffles. Alex shook his head while he set about preparing a cup of tea. God, didn't he just look fucking domestic? "Only for you, fuck stick." He grumbled, shaking his head again. He cast a glare in the direction of the living room. "You're gonna owe me for this. That's for damn sure."

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><p>Ten minutes later Alex was seated on the other end of the couch, drinking his own tea liberally laced with some whiskey, and Spencer was curled up on his half of the couch, when Derek finally got back. Spencer didn't even stir at the knock at the door or as Alex went and let Derek in. With a quick look to make sure the kid was still focused on his show—and Alex didn't miss how Spencer's eyes were slowly starting to slide closed—he led Derek into the kitchen and gestured at him to set the bags down on the counter. He started to unload them, not even bothering to put it all in the cupboards. He just set things out on the counter as he came across them. Why put them away when he was going to need them all over the next few days?<p>

He caught the tail end of a worried look flashing over Derek's face when the man glanced towards the living room at the sound of Spencer's sneeze. Pulling out the six pack of 7UP bottles, Alex set them down on the counter. "He's fine." He flashed a grin up at Derek. "Don't worry about it. I've been this route with him enough times that I've got it down to a science. He'll be fine."

"He looks worse than when I left."

"Yeah." He really did, Alex knew. There was less color in Spencer's face and, with his contacts out, it was easier to see the dulled color in his electric eyes. "That's just how he works, though. His colds always come on fucking fast. They build fast and hit hard and then spend a few days kicking his ass fucking _hard_. Then, he gets better just as fast, and just as out-of-nowhere as it came on." A quick glance up at the clock and a mental calculation and he added "He's still in the sleepy, starting phase. I've got a few hours left before a fever usually sets in. Then the fun _really_ begins." Fever Spencer was—interesting.

Some of the worry faded from Derek's face. One corner of his mouth quirked up in a slightly amused start of a smirk. "Look at you, Daddy Alex."

Alex scowled at him. "Shut up."

"No, no, it's so _sweet_." Derek's smirk grew bigger, unmistakable now. "You've got his soup, special Kleenex, even the soda he likes, an he's all tucked in there on the couch. It's so sweet and domestic, Alex. So _nice_."

The way he said 'nice' made it sound more like a curse word and that was just how Alex took it. "Bite me. I'm not _nice_. I'm being _practical_. If I don't take care of the little shit, aint no one else gonna."

"Uh huh."

Alex rolled his eyes at Derek's smug tone. Dammit, he was never going to hear the end of this. He picked up a bottle of 7UP with one hand and used the other to wave Derek out of the kitchen. "Don't you have somewhere else to be? Somewhere other than _here_?"

The two knew one another well enough that Derek didn't take offense to the tone. He just laughed and let Alex steer him out of the apartment, tossing out a mocking "Have fun there, Papa!" like the damn smartass he was, and then he was out the door and Alex was rolling his eyes again as he locked it behind him. He turned back around to look over to the couch where, sure enough, Spencer was sound asleep, and he couldn't help but sigh. "You're really gonna owe me here, pidge." He warned his sleeping brother. Still, he stopped by Spencer's head, not quite able to stop himself from reaching out and brushing a bit of loose hair back from Spencer's pale face. He tugged the edge of the blanket up over Spencer's shoulder, making sure he was tucked in, and then he sat himself down on the other side of the couch. Might as well relax and enjoy some good TV while he waited. He toed his shoes off and then kicked his stocking feet up on the coffee table and let himself relax while Leverage played on the TV and the congested snores of his baby brother filled the air around him.


	2. Chapter 2

The world was _freezing_. That was the first thing Spencer became aware of when he woke up. The whole world felt like it was frozen. A chill ran down his lanky body and he shivered so hard his teeth clacked together. Almost instantly he gave a low moan of pain as the shiver made his aching body just throb even more. What the hell happened to him? He felt like he'd gone ten rounds in the Danger Room with Scott and Alex, and maybe even Logan. But that wasn't possible. Hadn't he been at work earlier? He had vague memories of being at work. Coming home from a case, going into the Bureau. Then…coming home? No, he'd left with Derek to do—something or other. Had something happened? Had there been some kind of accident? Maybe that was why he hurt and why he was so damn _cold_.

His thoughts were growing steadily more and more panicked. Then something warm touched his forehead and he jumped, his reflexes too slow to really pull back or stop whatever it was from touching him. He tried to pull backwards until a very familiar voice broke through the haze on his mind and he realized just who the touch belonged to. "Hey, hey, hey, come on now. Calm down, pidge. Just chill. You're okay." Alex's low voice murmured. The touch on Spencer's head shifted and he recognized the feel of Alex's hand flattening over his forehead. It was a gesture that brought back countless memories of his childhood and his teen years. So many other times when he'd been hurt or sick and Alex's hand would settle on his forehead in that gesture meant to not just check for a fever, but also meant that Spencer wasn't alone, that his brother was with him and he was going to take care of him.

It took more effort than it should have for him to blink open eyes that felt heavy and gritty. Light from nearby blinded him a little and he kept his eyes at slits to try and block out that light. What was that? A…a TV? What was going on? "Al'x?"

"Yeah, pidge. It's me." The hand on Spencer's forehead pressed down briefly and then slid up to brush back his hair.

He adjusted a little more to the light and he could see now that the light did come from the TV. _His_ TV. He was at home and Alex was right there in front of him, crouching down beside the couch right near Spencer's head. The look on his face seemed, worried. Spencer licked his lips, his mouth and throat agonizingly dry. "S'matter?" Just that slurred question was enough to make his dry throat ache and a harsh cough pushed its way up. Spencer curled just enough and pressed a blanket against his mouth to cover it as the cough tore out of him.

Alex stroked his hair through the cough and he was there when it was done, a bottle and straw held out towards him, encouraging Spencer to take small sips of what he discovered was flat 7UP, the only thing he ever drank while sick. After a few careful sips, Spencer slumped back down into his blankets and Alex moved the drink away. His other hand stayed in Spencer's hair the entire time. "Just take it easy." Alex murmured. "You're sick, pidge, and you've hit the fever stage of things. I'm gonna get you some medicine, okay?"

Any other time and the very independent Spencer would've insisted on getting up and medicating himself, or even claim that he didn't need it at all. Right now he was more concerned with keeping his brother with him. He didn't want Alex to let go or stop the careful strokes of his hair. He didn't want Alex to move at all. Alex must've been prepared for that, though. His hand never left Spencer and his body only shifted a little, just enough that his other hand could stretch out for something on the coffee table. He turned back and held out a hand with two little pills in it. "Open up."

It should've been embarrassing to open his mouth and let Alex feed him the pills like some baby. It wasn't, though. Spencer felt only gratitude as Alex gave him the pills and as he held out the soda to help him swallow his medicine down.

"There you go, Spence." The soda moved away and then Alex was adjusting the blankets back up over his shoulder, tucking him in again. "Just lay back and let those kick in. You know how this goes. If we get lucky, maybe you can sleep through some of the crappier parts."

"Don' feel g'd." Spencer mumbled. It seemed important to say that.

He heard a low chuckle from Alex. The hand in his hair gave a light tug, not painful or anything, just enough to move his head a bit. "I know. Go to sleep; it'll help."

Spencer furrowed his eyebrows and tried to glare at his brother. "You're no' the boss of me."

"Mature, pidge. Real mature." Alex shook his head and let go of Spencer's hair so that he could use both hands to better tuck the blanket around him. "You're sick, little brother, and in the rules of the Summers family, that totally means I'm in charge seeing as how I'm the only one of us that knows how to handle your delirious, clingy ass when you're like this. So shut up, close your eyes, and go the fuck to sleep, all right?"

The caring speech wrapped up in mock gruffness and a few curses was such pure Alex that Spencer found himself smiling a little without even realizing it. His body relaxed into the blankets and his eyes started to drift shut. "Jus' for a minute." He cut off to cough, low and aching deep down in his chest. He felt Alex's hands help brace him, one pressing the blankets in against his chest in a familiar pose meant to ease the ache of a cough. By the time it ran its course there was no keeping his eyes open anymore. Spencer drifted off to sleep with the feel of Alex's hand rubbing over his chest and his voice a low murmur in the air around him.

* * *

><p>The fever stage had hit and hit hard. Spencer drifted in and out of consciousness for most of the night, taking the medication when Alex gave it to him, barely coherent for most of it.<p>

It was early morning when his fever started to spike to dangerous levels and Alex knew that just medication wasn't going to be enough to take it down. He and Spencer had been napping on the couch when a deep cough and a small power surge woke him up. The first thing he saw was the flickering of the lights around him, showing Spencer's lowered control. The next thing he noticed was that Spencer was bent forward, almost falling off the couch as he clutched his blanket to his chest and tried to breathe through the deep cough that was wracking his body. Alex immediately pushed up and reached out for him. The minute his hand touched skin, he was cursing. Spencer's skin felt like fire! He pushed that aside for the more immediate threat of keeping Spencer from falling off the couch. Shoving forward, he dropped down to one knee beside the couch, catching Spencer up against his chest and holding him there carefully, grimacing only a little at the germs that were now being coughed into his chest. Ah, well, the shirt was going to be washed anyways. One of his arms held Spencer close while the other went to rub soothingly over his back. "I got ya, pidge. I got ya. Don't fight it so hard. I know it hurts, but you gotta let it out. Fighting it's only gonna make it hurt worse. Just let it out, I've got you."

He coached Spencer through it until the coughing finally faded away and the young genius was slumped against his chest. It only brought home for Alex just how hot Spencer really was. Quickly he reached out to the supplies he had on the coffee table and he snagged the thermometer. It was one of the old glass ones and he warned Spencer before holding it to his mouth "All right, you know the drill. Under the tongue and don't bite this." These weren't as fast as the newer thermometers, and they were rarely used nowadays, but they couldn't use a digital thermometer when Spencer was sick. He just didn't have enough control over his powers and there was no telling when he might do. Scott had tried it once and Spencer's temperature had registered at two hundred and eleven. Another time, he'd fried the thermometer completely. So Alex made sure to keep one of these old fashioned ones around, and to gauge pretty well by touch just how bad things were. He had a feeling this was going to be a bad one.

He was right. Alex cursed long and low when he saw the numbers on the thermometer. 105.1. _Jesus_. For anyone else, he'd be calling an ambulance right now. For Spencer, it wasn't _that_ high, but it was dangerous. The kid ran a little warmer than most—all three of the Summers boys did. Hank said it was the energy in their bodies that made them just a few degrees warmer than most. But 105 was getting into a dangerous area and Alex needed to get that down fast.

"All right, pidge." Alex put the thermometer back and turned his full attention back to his miserable baby brother. "Time to get moving."

He'd never admit to anyone, even under threat of torture, just how much the sight of Spencer tugged at his heart right then. The kid truly did look miserable. He didn't look like an FBI agent, or even a college professor like Alex usually teased him. He looked like a sick kid who wanted nothing more than his big brother to make everything better. Wide, slightly glassy eyes were looking pleadingly at Alex, like the very idea of getting up was just too much to even think about. That look he could handle. It was the way the sparks in there were so dim that had Alex worrying. He hated seeing that look. Alex pushed back a grimace and made himself lean forward and carefully gather Spencer up in his arms. "C'mon, brother, up and at em. Your fever's way too high and we need to get it down, like, right the fuck now."

"Al_-ex_." Spencer's voice rose on the end of his name, turning it into a definite whine with just a hint of wheeze to it.

Rolling his eyes, Alex drew Spencer slowly upwards, his hands gentle despite his mocking tone. "Spen-_cer_."

Spencer glared pitifully at him. "You're not very nice." He grumbled. Still, he leaned in against Alex anyways, letting the man support some of his weight. Not that it was any hardship to do so. Spencer was light as a damn feather.

"You're a whiny little shit." Alex shot back without any real heat. He waited to make sure Spencer was steady on his feet and then started to lead him out of the room.

It was hard not to laugh when he saw the scowling pout that Spencer wore. The young genius was directing it towards the floor, which was probably a good plan because Alex doubted he'd be able to keep on his feet if he wasn't watching directly where he was going. Spencer was moving with that sluggishness that came from your body feeling like it'd been hit by a steamroller. "You're not s'posed to be mean to me." Spencer informed him sulkily, his slight slur reminiscent of the lisping days that Spencer still threatened death on anyone who dared talk about. "Scotty says so. Not when I'm sick."

"If I wasn't mean to you, you'd think I was the sick one."

"Yeah." Spencer didn't even deny it. He tipped his head sideways as Alex led him into the hall, letting his head drop onto Alex's shoulder. Even through his shirt Alex could feel the heat burning from Spencer's skin. His little brother reached over and poked him weakly with one finger. "Bully."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Mean old Alex, how dare I take care of you while you're sick?" Alex said sarcastically. He steered Spencer to the right and into the bathroom. One hand reached out to slap on the light. Carefully, he directed Spencer down onto the closed toilet seat. He couldn't help but shake his head at the pitiful way the kid looked up at him. "God, pidge, you look pitiful. You're damn lucky I love you. Otherwise, I would've put a note on your chest saying 'free to a good home' and dumped you on the side of the road years ago."

Spencer ignored his comment completely. He was staring instead at the bathtub like he was trying to figure out what they were doing here, or maybe even what the hell it was. Who knew? Spencer's brain was a mystery when he _wasn't_ sick. When he was sick, it was baffling.

As if to prove that point, Spencer furrowed his brow and looked up at Alex, asking "Is Scott making soup?"

That question honestly floored Alex for a minute. He stood there, one hand helping Spencer to balance because the kid couldn't seem to even sit up straight there, and he just blinked stupidly at him while trying to figure out just how the hell that question had even come to mind. "Uh…no?"

"Oh." Spencer looked relieved by that answer. His glassy eyes drifted back to the tub. "Good. He made some once, when I was sick and you weren't there. It tasted like cardboard and pickles."

Man oh _man_. Alex could only laugh at that. He didn't doubt Spencer's description of Scott's cooking. One thing their brother really wasn't known for was his skills in the kitchen. "Well don't worry, pidge. No cardboard-pickle soup in sight. Just you, me, and a bath you're going to absolutely loathe."

Spencer's face showed nothing but trust as he gave a wobbly nod to that.

It didn't take long for Alex to get the bath prepared, even if he did have to keep one hand on Spencer the whole time so that he didn't fall off the damn toilet seat. Once the water was all set up, it was time to get Spencer actually _in_ the tub. This was one of the surefire ways he'd come across over the years to get a high temperature down for his brother. They'd tried enough things before discovering that this one worked well. It wasn't the most _fun_, of course. Spencer had a modest streak that was _states_ wide and while he didn't mind changing quickly in front of his brothers, the idea of being naked in the tub with anyone in the room was mortifying to him when he wasn't half out of his head and delirious. But he was out of it enough today that he was barely able to put up more than a token protest as Alex quickly and efficiently stripped him down. He left Spencer in his boxers. It was just another one of those things that made this all easier on them both.

That first careful step into the cool water had Spencer whining at him. Alex didn't let it stop him. He just kept moving, getting Spencer in there whether he liked it or not and then getting him to sit down as well. The whole time, he talked to him and pushed a steady stream of comforting emotions to back his words. "Just get on in here, pidge, you know how it goes. We're just going to get you in here for a bit and get your temperature down. You know a cool bath always gets it to start dropping. The medicine should kick in soon, too, and then you'll really start to feel better."

They'd just got Spencer settled down in the bath when a deep cough hit him. It shook him hard, bending him double, each harsh sound echoed by a flash to the lights. Alex ignored the lights; it wasn't bad enough for him to worry about a power surge or anything like that. Just some flickering. Instead, he focused on rubbing a hand over Spencer's hunched back until the last of the cough faded. When it finally ran its course, Spencer looked ragged, his knees drawn up to his chest and his head resting weakly on them. "Al'x." The whisper of Alex's name was raspy and pitiful. He didn't say anything else, didn't whine or ask for anything. Just said Alex's name in that way of his that Alex had learned over the years was nothing more than a way of checking in, connecting with his brother, reminding himself that he wasn't alone. That there was someone with him who was taking care of him. Alex smoothed his hand over Spencer's back one last time. Then he reached over and picked up the cup that he'd put in here earlier just for this eventuality.

The first cupful of water, he poured over Spencer's back, hating it as he saw Spencer shiver and whimper. But the kid didn't complain. He just lay there as Alex slowly dumped more and more water on him in an attempt to try and get his temperature to start going down. As he did, he couldn't help but look his brother over. "Y'know, once you're better, you and I are having a talk, Spence." He warned him, pouring some water over Spencer's shoulder and arm. "You're looking too damn skinny. You and Scooter, you fuckers never eat enough. You get too caught up in shit in those big brains of yours and forget lesser things like food and sleep. That's probably why you're sick, you know? Fuck stick. Maybe if you took better care of yourself, I wouldn't have to be here bathing your dumbass self just so your body won't try and boil from the inside out."

Spencer's voice drifted out, slightly muffled from being spoken up against his knees. "I don't like fish sticks."

That made Alex snort and shake his head. "I know. You're weird like that."

"The term 'fish fingers' is first referenced in a recipe given in a British popular magazine in 1900."

Ah, and so it began. The random babble of a fevered Spencer. There was no telling what was going to come out of his mouth now. Alex adjusted his spot on the edge of the tub. "You know, you're the only fool I know that babbles this kind of insanity when feverish." He scooped up another cupful of water and poured it over Spencer's head, soaking his hair. "Most people talk about, like, memories, or they hallucinate crazy bugs trying to eat them, or people that aren't really there. But no, not you. That'd be too _normal_. You've got to say some of the weirdest shit."

Spencer blinked a few times and lifted those glassy eyes to look up through the wet screen of his bangs. His nose wrinkled slightly in a way that Alex would never tell him was totally childlike and kind of adorable. "You smell like energy and coffee and earth."

That made Alex snort. "Yeah, just prove my point there, pidge." He scooped up another cup, pouring the water over the back of Spencer's neck. "What the hell does energy smell like, anyways? I didn't know it _had_ a smell."

One slender shoulder shrugged and Spencer's eyes dropped back down again. "Smells like you."

Yeah, he'd pretty much walked into that one. At least Spencer was talking, though. Talking meant he was staying awake and at least _semi_-coherent. Besides, this was kind of entertaining. "What's Scott smell like?"

"Ink, peanuts, and old spice." Spencer answered promptly.

Low laughter echoed in the bathroom. That was one he was totally going to remember. He'd make a point of telling Scott later on. Ink, peanuts and old spice! Alex shook his head but didn't bother smothering his grin. He didn't set the cup down yet but he did twist his hand so that he could catch his wrist under Spencer's hair and press it against his forehead. Hm. He'd have to check with the thermometer, but the kid definitely felt cooler. Cool enough to get him out of here. At least, for now. "All right, Sparky. Time to get on out of here."

Getting Spencer _out_ of the tub was nowhere near as easy as getting him _in_. His fever had definitely gone down some, which meant that some of the haziness was starting to fade just a bit, which also meant that some of his sheer orneriness was starting to set back in. Alex got him upright just fine, even brought the towel to him, but Spencer balked at Alex helping him more. His hands swatted weakly at Alex and a childlike glare settled on his features. "I can do it." He insisted in a voice that was just slightly clearer than before. "I'm not _two_, Alex. I can dry myself off."

"Excuse the hell outta me for helping." Alex said dryly. He surrendered the towel—it was easier to give in on the little things, especially when it came time to insist on the bigger things—but he didn't move away. He didn't really trust Spencer to stay on his feet for long.

That proved to be a smart plan. Spencer got himself dry without incident, but getting his boxers on proved almost too much. Or, more, the bending down part proved difficult. The kid started wobbling and almost toppled right over. Alex had been prepared for that and he caught him quickly. "You're such a pain in my ass." He grumbled as he sat Spencer on his towel on the closed toilet. With quick, efficient moves, he got his brother's feet in the boxers and then stood him back up so they could slide them up. "I swear, pidge, you owe me for this shit. You're my brother an all an fuck knows I love you, despite you being a raging shit head, but there are limits to what a brother should have to do. Bathing and dressing their adult brother should be one of those limits. I sure as shit didn't need to see your scrawny, naked ass."

"So go away." Spencer grumbled at him. At the same time, he wound his fingers through the bottom of Alex's shirt, completely contradicting his words.

Alex snorted and shook his head again. "Yeah, right. Then who'd take care of you?" He grabbed the shirt he'd left in here off the counter and slipped it over Spencer's head.

A pout twisted Spencer's features when his head popped out the top of the shirt. "I can take care of m'self."

"Uh huh. Says the man that can't even fucking walk right now."

"Can too!"

Jesus, it was like talking to a kid. Alex pulled down the hem of Spencer's shirt and felt a wave of fond exasperation wash over him. Fucking bratty little brothers, man. Giant pains in the ass, but he wouldn't trade him for the world. Spencer looked all of fourteen right then, standing and swaying lightly on his feet, dressed in just a pair of boxers and an oversized t-shirt that proclaimed 'Vulcan in the streets, Klingon in the sheets', his damp hair hanging around a pouting face, making him look like some sick, kicked puppy. Without him noticing, Alex's smile softened and his eyes warmed a little. "Let's go get you in bed, pidge." He said in a much gentler voice. "I've got a bucket there already in case you get sick, an I set up the TV and DVD player so we can watch a movie or two. We could do a Lord of the Rings marathon. Or, I brought over the newest season of Supernatural."

With steady hands and gentle coaxing, he drew Spencer out of the bathroom and back to the bedroom. Sleepiness was starting to kick in now that his fever had gone down and it didn't really take much to get him tucked down into bed. It did take a moment to get Spencer's long fingers to let go, though. Once he did, Alex hurried out to the living room to grab the rest of his supplies. Then he was back in the bedroom and setting things up there. Soda on the nightstand, pills over on the other side of the bed with the thermometer and a cell phone. Fellowship of the Ring put in the DVD player, a bowl of snacks on Alex's side of the bed as well as a bottle of Pepsi, and then the bucket set up on Spencer's side of the bed in case he was sick. Once that was all set up, Alex grabbed the remote and climbed right up into Spencer's bed, propping himself up against pillows. He pressed play on the movie and then started to count softly to himself. "One, two, three, four, five…" He stopped at five and chuckled to himself when Spencer rolled over and pressed right up against him. He'd known it wouldn't take but seconds for his brother to leech on. Sick, clingy kid. One of Spencer's arms went across Alex's waist and his face buried in against his brother's hip. His empathy reached out at the same time and pressed just as close against Alex as his body was. Sick, Spencer lost his inhibitions, ignored the voices that told him that he wasn't allowed to seek out or accept comfort. He reached out for it and Alex never hesitated to give it. He let Spencer stay close and he let his empathy in.

It was moments like this that Alex could look down at his little brother and really feel the love fill his heart. Here, there weren't any jokes, no roughhousing or teasing. That would come back later. For now, he put his hand on Spencer's head, smoothing his hair back from a face that was still warm, though thankfully not near as warm as before, and he settled in to watch the movie while his baby brother dozed safely against his side.


End file.
